Trapped
by Rose Starre
Summary: It was an unassuming hotel from the outside. Inside, however, it was house of horrors, no electricity, no staff, and, most distressingly, no way out. How will the imprisoned Superstars survive?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing.**

"Never heard of this place," Daniel Bryan noted, looking carefully at the pamphlet Vince McMahon had given him. The pamphlet looked legit enough, but the hotel itself seemed to have sprung out of early 20th century Europe.

"Yeah," Shawn Michaels agreed. "It all seems a little bit fishy to me."

"Are you two coming?" Triple H called. He and the others were already heading inside. The two idling Superstars shared an uneasy glance before following.

Once inside, the Superstars instantly noted that it wasn't much colder than the summer heat outside. It was dark, but not pleasantly cool like they had hoped. The only light filtered through the grimy windows. The grand front doors squeaked shut behind them, making the foyer darker still.

"Hello?" Triple H called into the darkness. "Is there anyone here?" Nothing but the echoes of his own voice answered him.

"Must be closed," Shawn noted, already heading back towards the front door. The general abandoned feeling of the place wasn't appealing to him at all. "Let's go." As he began tugging on the door handle, however, he found it stuck. "Um, guys?" he said shakily, "The door's jammed."

"It can't be," Triple H said, waving aside the notion. "Here, let me try." Shawn stepped aside and Triple H took the door handle in hand. He also couldn't make it budge. "That's weird," he murmured.

"What's the matter with you two?" Stone Cold Steve Austin asked them. He shoved Triple H aside and yanked on the door handle. Unfortunately, he pulled so strongly that the handle came clean off the door.

"Way to go," Triple H said flatly. "Now we _really_ can't get out."

"Well," Steve replied hotly, "How was _I_ supposed to know that it'd come off?!"

"Guys!" Shawn cried. "This isn't helping!"

"Maybe we should have a look around the lobby," Daniel suggested, trying to be helpful.

"Alright," Triple H said, begrudgingly leaving his argument to follow the suggestion. "Can't hurt to look around."

The foursome split up to inspect the foyer. Daniel moved left, towards a vase that seemed a little mysterious. There was a suspiciously healthy-looking plant growing inside. He touched one of the leaves. _Fake, _he thought. _Go figure._

As he turned to examine something else, Daniel accidentally brushed against the vase, knocking it over. The fragile glass shattered as it collided with the floor. "Daniel!" Steve bellowed. "What was that for?!"

"Sorry!" Daniel snapped. "It was an accident!"

Grumbling to himself, Steve returned to trying to examine a dark corner. Daniel looked down at the fragmented vase. There, in the mess of broken glass, plastic plant, and fake dirt, was a flashlight. "Guys!" he called. "Come over here! I found something!"

When the other three had gathered around the spot, Daniel pointed out the flashlight. "This flashlight can help us get out of here!" Steve exclaimed eagerly, picking up the flashlight and brushing the dirt off of it. He tried to turn it on. "It's not working," he said dejectedly.

"Wait, let me try," Shawn said, taking the flashlight. Much to the confusion of the other three, he began to shake it.

"What are you trying to do?" Triple H asked, rather confused.

"I'm making it work," Shawn answered. He then turned the flashlight on without trouble. "See?" he pointed out, "It's one of those flashlights you have to shake."

"Oh," Steve said, slightly sarcastic. "That makes sense."

"Let's check out the counter," Triple H suggested. "We could see if there's anything good there."

They made their way over to the counter. There was nothing of interest there. "Not even any keys," Shawn noted after poking around a bit with the flashlight.

"Well," Triple H sighed, "All we can do now is hope that some of the rooms are unlocked."

The small group of Superstars began to walk down the nearest hallway. From the point they left the foyer, the flashlight became an absolute necessity, since the halls were so dark. They soon came across a door. "Should we open it?" Daniel asked.

"I don't see what other choice we have," Triple H said, reaching for the doorknob.

Giving the flashlight a good shake, Shawn shone the light inside the room. The foursome froze. There, hanging from the center of the ceiling, was a mutilated corpse. Triple H rapidly shut the door.

"Good luck sleeping tonight," Stone Cold said, dazed.

"I'm gonna have a difficult time forgetting that," Shawn whimpered, visibly shaken.

"I'm sure we all will," Triple H confirmed.

After quite some time of wide-eyed staring at the closed door, the group decided to move on to another door. "Please don't let there be a dead body behind that door," Shawn prayed quietly as he shone the light into the room. Luckily for all four of them, the room was empty, save for a bed, a lamp, and a small table. The group let out a sigh of relief.

At that moment, they decided to make that room their base until they found a way out of the hotel. "Alright," Steve said. "I think it's night out there now. We should probably get some sleep."

"What we saw in that other room," Shawn said shakily, "couldn't have happened all by itself. What if whatever did that is still lurking around here?"

"Maybe we should have shifts," Triple H suggested. "That way, we'll be ready if something does come."

"Who'll have the first shift, then?" Daniel asked.

"I think I should," Steve spoke.

"Well, I think _I_ should," Triple H countered.

"How about both of you have the first shift?" Shawn advised.

There was tension in the air as both men curtly answered, "Fine."

Later, as the first shift of the night was nearing its close, Steve suddenly broke the two men's long silence. "I'm hungry," he said.

"Then go find the kitchen or something," Triple H responded.

"I'm taking the flashlight," Steve announced, plucking the flashlight from its perch and making his way out of the door.

XxXxX

It took Steve five minutes of wandering to find the kitchen. From there, he quickly located the fridge and opened it. There wasn't exactly much in there, but there was a good wheel of cheese that caught Steve's eye.

As he reached for it, Steve became aware of a loud chewing sound. He turned around and pointed the flashlight in the general direction of the noise. What he saw making the noise both surprised and scared him. It was clearly a zombie, eating what may or may not have been brains.

Forgetting the cheese, Steve made a break for it. He had no intention to have his brain eaten, so he figured it best to flee the scene. Although he no idea whether or not the zombie was following, Steve didn't really want to stop and find out.

Bursting into the foursome's base, Steve swiftly moved the small table against the door as a makeshift barrier. "What's your problem?" Triple H asked.

"Zombies…" Steve panted. "Zombies… Here…"

"Zombies, Steve?" Triple H sighed, shaking his head. "You expect me to believe that?"

"You weren't there!" Steve bellowed. "It was eating brains! What else could it have been?!"

"Huh?" Shawn murmured groggily, woken by Steve's loud shouting.

"Nothing, Shawn," Triple H said. "Go back to sleep."

"Zombies aren't nothing!" Steve hollered.

"Zombies?" Shawn enquired, sitting up.

"Yeah," Steve confirmed. "It was sitting on the kitchen floor, eating something. It was probably the brains of the last poor sap that wandered in here."

"Steve," Triple H groaned. "You're making it worse."

"I'm telling him what I saw," Steve protested.

"Some people can't handle the truth," Triple H pointed out.

"You think I can't handle the fact that zombies do indeed exist?" Shawn queried.

"Yes," Triple H replied flatly.

"You're probably right," Shawn sighed.

"What's going on?" Daniel mumbled woozily.

"Zombies exist," Shawn replied shortly.

"What?" Daniel cried.

"Shawn!" Triple H snapped.

"What?" Shawn objected.

"What?" Steve asked, knowing full well that saying this would make Triple H even angrier.

"Really, Steve?" Triple H complained.

"What?" Steve repeated.

"Enough!" Triple H roared.

"Maybe now would be a good time to switch the shift?" Shawn recommended.

"Sure," Triple H huffed.

"What?" Steve asked, trying to aggravate Triple H further. Fortunately for him, Triple H was too tired to argue any more. Shaking his head, he bade the other two a good night and went to sleep as far away from Triple H as he could get. Shaking their heads, Shawn and Daniel braced themselves for a long, hopefully unexciting shift.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I still own nothing.**

A few shifts later, the small group of Superstars was able to detect sunlight through the grimy window in their makeshift base. "Looks like it's day now," Daniel yawned.

"You think?" Steve said, rolling his eyes.

"Hey, Steve," Triple H said, "Where did you find the kitchen?"

"Down the hall," Steve answered, "you'll find it through a pair of doors at the end."

"I'm going to find some breakfast," Triple H announced, picking up the flashlight.

"Watch out for zombies," Steve warned.

"Yeah," Triple H replied, shaking his head. "Whatever you say, Steve."

The Game made his way down the hall, drawing ever nearer to the double doors at its end. He had no idea what he'd find there, but hoped that it would be some form of edible food. Frowning slightly, he pushed his way into the kitchen, hoping to prove Steve's zombie theory wrong.

Instead of making a beeline toward the fridge, Triple H poked around for a few minutes. There were no apparent signs of zombie activity, so he figured that it would be safe to find food.

After a minute or two of rummaging in the fridge, Triple H gathered a few edible-looking foodstuffs and left the room. Little did he know, something was watching.

As he neared the base, Triple H thought he heard a slight creaking noise behind him. Whirling around, he wielded the flashlight like a weapon. Nothing was there.

While Triple H looked around, he suddenly became aware of a bony hand resting on his shoulder. Turning in a slow, unwilling manner, he discovered a figure clothed in a dark cloak with the hood pulled low over the face. Extending his hand, the figure said in a rather demonic voice, "Come with me."

Letting out a rather unmanly shriek, Triple H pushed past the stranger and burst into the base. He leaned against the door, staring, wild-eyed, into space. "What's your problem?" Daniel asked.

"Did you get the food?" Steve questioned.

Glaring daggers at Steve, Triple H recounted his run-in with the cloaked figure. "It could be a murderer!" he cried. "Or death itself!"

"Did he have a scythe?" Steve inquired.

"No," Triple H answered.

"Then that wasn't death," Steve replied.

"Then it was a murderer?" Shawn squeaked.

"Probably," Steve replied, shrugging. "Seriously, though," he added, turning back to Triple H, "Did you get the food?"

Triple H threw some cheese at Steve. "There," he said, "Now will you shut up?"

"Sure," Steve responded, examining the cheese before eating it.

"So," Daniel said, "There's a murderer and some zombies on the loose and we can't get out of this building?"

"Yeah," Triple H groaned. "Thanks for summing that up for us."

"There has to be a way out of here!" Shawn exclaimed. He then proceeded to try to open the window, to no avail.

"Calm down," Steve said between bites of cheese. "That won't work. Trust me; I tried last night."

Once they had finished their improvised breakfast, they decided to take a closer look around the hotel. "Safety in numbers," Shawn reasoned, giving the flashlight a good shake as they left the security of the base.

The foursome traveled in a tight group and moved quickly. They didn't want to be caught off guard by any murderer or zombie. They peeked in a few rooms, only to be met with emptiness. "It looks like the only other occupied room is the one across from ours," Steve said.

"That's good to hear," Shawn pointed out, "But, where are the zombies? And the murderer?"

As if on cue, the group became aware of a slight moaning sound behind them. "What is up with these noises always popping up behind us?" Triple H asked no one in particular as they turned around.

The two zombies that they saw came as something of a surprise. They, however, couldn't hold a candle to the other thing that was standing there. It was none other than the cloaked murderer. He held out his hand again and bellowed, "He who does not heed my call shall feel my eternal wrath!"

"I'll take my chances," Steve said, turning back around and running.

There was a brilliant flash of light and, suddenly, Steve was gone. The three remaining Superstars stared at the place where he'd been just a few seconds before until the murderer spoke again. "None of you shall ever see Steve again," he said. "Do any of _you_ dare run from your everlasting demise?"

None of the other three ventured to move. "Wh-what do you want with us?" Daniel stammered.

At this, the murderer chuckled, a low, dark sound. "You have impeded upon my thousand-year slumber. I shall make you perish," he explained.

"We're not scared of you," Triple H said defiantly, hoping that his bravado would keep the other two from running off. No such luck, as Daniel turned tail and fled.

"Flee while you can," the murderer scoffed. "I will find you and make you pay for your sins."

Triple H looked around to find that Shawn had also disappeared. Looking back at the murderer, he decided it best to get out of there and try to find the other two before the cloaked assassin did. So, he too abandoned the scene.

"Scatter, my enemies," the murderer chortled. "Run to where I alone can find you and bring about your end." He turned and walked leisurely down the hall before vanishing.


End file.
